


Sherlock: Silver On Pink

by IBegToDreamAndDiffer



Series: Sherlock: Colours [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family, Friendship, Holmes Family, Humor, M/M, Romance, Watson Family - Freeform, Wedding, Yarders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:19:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBegToDreamAndDiffer/pseuds/IBegToDreamAndDiffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Mycroft's help, John and Sherlock finally get to marry. That's if John can survive the bachelor party Greg's thrown him, and Sherlock and Mycroft don't blow up the house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock: Silver On Pink

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC, Mark Gatiss, and Steven Moffat. The original characters are the property of Arthur Conan Doyle. I own nothing but the plot and I make no money from this story.
> 
> Beta(s): squarerootofrsquared and doctorcoffeegirl (from FF.Net)

_‘John? Will you marry me?’ Sherlock asked again._

_‘Yes!’ John shouted when he realised he’d been quiet too long. ‘Oh God, yes! Sherlock, of course I’ll bloody marry you!’_

_Sherlock grinned and took the ring from the box. He grabbed John’s left hand and slipped the ring on; perfect fit._

_Sherlock stood and John threw his arms around his boyfriend– no, fiancé– and dragged him in for a kiss._

_‘Sherlock, I love you so much,’ John whispered when they finally broke apart. ‘Of course I’ll marry you.’_

_‘You’ve already said that,’ Sherlock chuckled._

_John grinned and pressed his face into Sherlock’s chest. ‘I know but I wanted to say it again. I love you, Sherlock.’_

_‘I love you too,’ Sherlock whispered._

_Much, much later, when John could untangle himself from Sherlock long enough to do anything, the doctor pulled the ring off to look at the inside. Engraved into the silver were a few simple words that had John grinning and flinging himself at Sherlock again:_

 

**Yours forever and always.**

 

 

{o}

 

A lot of planning goes into a wedding. There are a lot of things to consider; will it be outside or in a church? (A big thing to consider when two men are involved).

'John, _why_ would I want to get married in a church?'

'Oh... well, you know, most weddings are in churches.'

'But neither of us is very religious... you're not, are you?'

'No, not really. I mean, I believe there's a higher power, but I've never really followed one specific-'

'And I don't believe in God because I'm not an idiot, so there we go; no church.'

'Sherlock, people who believe in God aren't idiots.'

'Yes they are.'

'Sherlock-'

'Fine, fine; I'm sorry.'

'Good. Anyway, it was just a suggestion, I don't really wanna get married in a church either.'

'There's also the simple fact that we're both men, John, therefore this is a civil union, technically not a marriage.'

'It _is_ a marriage, Sherlock. I don't care what the government says.'

'Yes, yes. I was just saying that we couldn't get married in a church even if we wanted to.'

'Right... well, that doesn't matter. So, outside?'

If it’s outside, will it be in a garden? What will the weather be like; will it be in summer or winter?

‘Can it be in winter?’

‘Sherlock, people will freeze.’

‘Good.’

‘No, that’s a bit not good.’

‘I like the snow.’

‘If we get married in winter it’ll be inside.’

‘...please?’

‘No.’

How many people will be invited? Is it going to be a small ceremony with just friends and family or something so big you invite the mailman?

‘Can we not invite Sally and Anderson?’

‘But it’ll be fun.’

‘Sherlock, you hate them.’

‘And I can rub it in Sally’s face that I’m getting married.’

‘Sherlock, our wedding will _not_ be about you rubbing things in people’s faces.’

‘Please?’

‘No.’

‘ _Fine_.'

What kind of food will be served? Will it be catered? Will there be an open bar or do people have to pay for their drinks? Are children coming, will there be any vegetarians, is anyone allergic to peanuts or mushrooms or anything else?

‘Open bar? Are you insane, John? My brother will be there.’

‘He doesn’t have to drink.’

‘What if he falls off the wagon?’

‘Sherlock, Greg will be there; he’ll be fine.’

‘But it sounds expensive.’

‘Open bar.’

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘... _fine_!’

Will there be best men? How many groomsmen?

'I'm gonna ask Greg.'

'Why?'

'He's my best friend, Sherlock.'

'Well who am _I_ supposed to have?'

'Anderson?'

'That's not funny, John.'

'Don't pout.'

'I'm not pouting.'

'Sherlock, I think you're missing the obvious here.'

'No I'm not.'

'Who's always been there for you? Who knows you the best, who's always worrying about you, and who do you want up there, standing beside you, on the biggest day of your life?'

'... but I'm marrying you, you can't be my best man.'

'You're an idiot.'

'Am not.'

'You're pouting again, and I was talking about Mycroft.'

'Oh... _oh_... you want me to ask my brother?'

'No, _you_ want to ask your brother, you know you do, Sherlock.'

'Ah... right... yes, well I suppose Mycroft is acceptable.'

''Cause you _love_ him.'

'I DO NOT!'

They also had to consider food, and cake, and whether or not Sherlock can throw the cake.

‘No, Sherlock, you cannot throw the cake.’

‘But John, _please_.’

‘No.’

‘ _Fine_.’

What will they wear? Suits? Dresses? Should they wear white?

'Neither us us will wear white, John.'

'Why not?'

'I know for a fact we aren't virgins.'

'Well obviously, yeah, but what about white shirts?'

'Oh... well white shirts are acceptable.'

'Good.'

'Or...'

‘...No, Sherlock, I will _not_ go naked.’

‘But I like you naked.’

‘The guests won’t like me naked.’

‘I’m sure Mycroft, Greg, and about a dozen other people will like it.’

‘No, Sherlock.’

‘You never let me have any fun.’

‘I do; you brought home that cow head the other day.’

‘You hate me.’

‘Do not.’

‘...’

‘Sherlock, I’m not going naked.’

‘Why _not_?’

Thankfully Sherlock wasn't part of the major decision process. John and Greg took over with Mycroft working his magic skills to get everything sorted. The man really could plan anything; CIA attacks, royal visits, kidnapping plots, and his brother’s wedding.

They sat around the large kitchen table in Mycroft and Greg’s flat, wedding plans strewn across the table.

‘So, what about food?’ Greg asked.

‘Shouldn’t we get the where and when done first?’ John asked.

‘I don’t know,’ the DI shrugged. ‘I’ve never planned a wedding.’

‘Where and when first,’ Mycroft nodded, sipping his lemonade and sitting beside Greg. ‘Is there anywhere in particular you would like?’

‘Not really,’ John said. ‘Sherlock wants it outside and I do too. A church is out of the question for obvious reasons.’

‘It’d be really fun though,’ Greg grinned. ‘We can get Sherlock in a white dress.’

John smirked. ‘Sherlock is _not_ a virgin.’ Mycroft groaned and the doctor said, ‘Sorry, sorry.’

‘How about my country home?’ Mycroft asked.

‘You have a country home?’

Mycroft nodded at John. ‘It's our childhood home, I inherited when our father died; Sherlock has always enjoyed going there. It has a beautiful gazebo at the back of the house and gardens. We can put up marquees if it’s cold as well as heaters if you want it to be in winter.’

‘Sherlock would like that,’ John said. ‘Maybe early winter... but he said he likes snow.’

‘That’d be romantic,’ Greg said, ‘you could do it at night or early evening.’

‘Early evening I think. That way people can go inside if it gets too cold.’

‘We could put up marquees, like I said,’ Mycroft said, writing notes in his elegant handwriting, ‘and have them attached to the back of the house. There are bay windows and large wooden doors that would make everything look smooth.’

‘Okay,’ John nodded, ‘I’d like to see it first but I don’t see why not.’

Mycroft smiled as Greg asked, ‘So, date?’

‘Early winter...’ John mused, ‘so... early December? That’s a good... seven months from now.’

‘Not too long?’ Mycroft asked.

‘We’ll be celebrating our two year anniversary long before that...’ John mused, ‘but no, it sounds good. Plenty of time to prepare and give Sherlock an out if he comes to his senses.’

Mycroft tutted. ‘My brother is not going to change his mind, John.’

‘We’ll see,’ the doctor smiled. He knew Sherlock wasn’t going to change his mind; he was an addict and he was addicted to John. But still, Sherlock wanted to get married in winter. John could wait.

‘December tenth?’ Mycroft asked and John nodded. ‘Excellent, we have that done. So, food.’

John felt a bit weird sitting around planning his wedding with Mycroft. He was sure the other man spent his days planning very complicated and highly secret plans for the government. But still, he’d offered and John was glad. There was no way he could plan this himself.

‘Spaghetti,’ John said and the other two men looked at him. ‘Er, it’s... kind of our thing; spaghetti and red wine.’

Mycroft smiled and jotted it down. ‘How about something else in case people do not care for spaghetti?’

‘There’s always chicken or steak at weddings,’ Greg said. ‘So I’d put them on the menu. People can RSVP with what they want.’

‘Sounds good but expensive,’ John said.

‘I’m paying for the wedding,’ Mycroft suddenly announced. Before John could protest, Mycroft held up his hand. ‘John, you have made my brother happier than he has ever been. I’ve never seen him like this and it makes me happy. Neither of you are rich men but I am; allow me to do this for you. Think of it as a wedding present.’

‘But... but you’re already letting us use your home,’ John said.

‘John, please,’ Mycroft repeated, ‘let me do this.’

John looked at Greg, who smiled, before relenting. ‘Fine, okay. Thank you, Mycroft.’ The elder Holmes smiled and made another note. ‘You realise Sherlock will hate that you’re paying for it.’

Mycroft smirked. ‘I know.’

John rolled his eyes and Greg said, ‘Honestly, you two...’ Mycroft just smiled again and kissed him softly.

‘So chicken or steak for the main course, but I think we should ask if anyone’s a vegetarian,’ John said.

‘I’ll make a note to ask the guests when we have an actual guest list,’ Mycroft murmured.

‘Good,’ John nodded. ‘So, dessert. Dessert can be... erm...’

‘Chocolate cake or cheesecake?’ Greg offered.

‘Yeah, sounds good,’ John nodded. ‘Oh, we should make sure no one’s allergic to chocolate or anything.’

‘Another note,’ Mycroft said.

‘Are you having a wedding cake?’ Greg asked.

‘’Course,’ John nodded, ‘but promise to keep an eye on it? Don’t let Sherlock near it without me.’

‘Why?’ Greg asked.

‘He wants to throw the cake for some reason; something about an experiment. I will _not_ let him experiment during our wedding.’

Mycroft chuckled. ‘Watch Sherlock; check.’

‘I want it to be nice,’ John said. ‘Wedding cakes always look... inedible.’

‘Chocolate?’ Mycroft asked. ‘Vanilla, banana, raspberry, what?’

‘Hmm... vanilla, I think,’ John said, watching Mycroft make yet another note. ‘With dark chocolate bits in it,’ John continued, suddenly feeling hungry. ‘And chocolate icing... with little rose thingies on the outside. And I want one of those things on top of the wedding cake; you know, a little bride and groom? Though two grooms, obviously.’

‘You could get one specially made,’ Greg said, ‘one tall, one short.’

‘Ha, ha, you’re a riot,’ John growled and Greg chuckled into his drink. ‘But yeah, I want one of those.’

‘This cake will make people sick,’ Mycroft noted as he wrote down John’s words.

‘Mm, worth it though,’ John said, ‘especially when I smear it on Sherlock’s face; it’ll taste really yummy on his lips.’

Mycroft groaned again and stood to get another lemonade.

‘Thanks for doing this,’ John said, ‘I’d be lost without you two.’

‘Hey, I haven’t done anything,’ Greg shrugged. ‘Thank Mycroft.’

‘He really can plan anything,’ John said, Greg nodding.

‘We should get the guest list done,’ Mycroft said as he sat back down.

They were making good progress as John leaned back in his seat. ‘Well, my parents and my sister as well as Clara,’ he murmured, Mycroft writing down the names. ‘You two, obviously, and Belle. Mrs Hudson... Sarah from work.’

‘Your ex?’ Greg asked.

‘We’re still friends,’ John said. ‘I want her there.’

‘Very well,’ Mycroft nodded. ‘Anybody else?’

‘Erm... Sherlock wants to invite Sally and Anderson,’ John said.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’ Greg asked.

‘Something about rubbing it in Sally’s face,’ John shrugged. ‘Put them on the list. Oh, and Dimmock.’

‘You don’t know many people,’ Greg said as he read the list over Mycroft’s shoulder.

‘Neither do you,’ John pointed out.

‘Ah, but I have a bigger family,’ Greg smiled.

John rolled his eyes. ‘That’s it I think, unless Sherlock wants to invite anyone else.’

‘John, my brother is friendly with five people and three of those are in this room.’

John smiled. ‘Right, okay. So, how many is that?’

‘Twelve,’ Mycroft said.

‘Huh, I really am boring,’ John mused.

Greg chuckled and sipped his coffee.

‘Oh, and Anthea,’ John said.

‘Who?’ Mycroft asked.

‘Your assistant,’ Greg reminded him.

‘Oh, yes, of course,’ Mycroft smiled and added her name to the list. After some more consideration John added a few old army buddies to the list as well as Mike Stamford, Molly Hooper and a few old childhood friends. The list came to thirty and John felt better.

‘Good, thirty, that’s good,’ John nodded.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. ‘Why do the amount of people who come matter, John?’

‘Dunno,’ John shrugged. ‘The more the merrier.’

Mycroft just chuckled and jotted down more notes.

 

{oOo}

 

John left Mycroft to take care of everything, the politician occasionally texting him with thoughts and ideas. A few months after the major planning session, John, Sherlock, Mycroft and Greg headed up to Mycroft’s country home.

It was a large estate, complete with a stone and wood manor house, a long pebbled drive that curled around to a massive garage and the front of the house, stables filled with at least a dozen horses, lush grounds, gardens, trees, an outdoor swimming pool (there was also an indoor one) and a veranda that spanned the entire house.

John could not _believe_ that the Holmes brothers had grown up here. Their father had died when Mycroft was seventeen, but luckily the elder Holmes had already completed university and returned to take care of his mother and brother.

Mellibelle had moved out of the Manor when Sherlock left for university, leaving it in Mycroft's hands. Sherlock wanted nothing to do with it but had told John that he was always welcomed there; Mycroft always welcomed him.

John and Sherlock had gone for a walk around the grounds, Sherlock commenting on the various experiments/stupid things he'd done.

Really, the place was perfect, and John couldn't wait to marry Sherlock right there.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg took John out for a sort of bachelor party the night before the wedding; it was John, Greg, Mike Stamford, Sally Donovan (she was basically one of the blokes), DI Dimmock, DI Gregson, and a few other officers John had met while helping Scotland Yard.

They went to their favourite pub and John found that Mycroft had completely booked the place, giving John and the Scotland Yard crew the entire building to themselves. There was food and drinks, decorations and pool tables and music. John looked around at the expensive yet normal food and promised himself he'd do _something_ to show Mycroft his thanks.

A long table had been put in the middle of the pub and Greg made sure everyone had drinks before sitting. John was forced to wear a gold crown that said "Headin' To The Gallows" written across it in thick marker, everyone cackling as Dimmock added a pink sash that said "Future Bride". John took it all in good fun.

Surprisingly it was Sally who stood up a few drinks in, making all the men go quiet.

'First, let me thank you for inviting me,' Sally said.

'Well you're more of a man than Anderson,' Dimmock snickered.

She slapped him over the back of the head but was smiling as she continued, 'Yes, well we all know I have more balls than that dickhead.' John chuckled. 'Anyway, we're not here to complain about me; we're here to send the Doc off into married life with our favourite sociopath. So,' she raised her glass and everyone did the same, John blushing slightly, 'to John and Sherlock; congratulations.'

'To John and Sherlock,' the others chorused.

John sipped his beer and turned to Greg as everyone fell back into conversation. 'This has got to be the weirdest bachelor party ever.'

'Been to a lot, have you?' Greg asked. John shook his head and Greg said, 'As long as you don't wake up tomorrow morning duct-taped to a pole or bench, you'll be fine.'

'What?' John gaped.

The DI snickered. 'I went to my brother-in-law's bachelor party and-'

'You mean the dude you slept with?' John cut in.

Greg scowled and Sally and Dimmock both turned. 'What was that?' Dimmock asked.

'Nothing,' Greg said quickly.

'Ah, ah, that _was_ something,' Sally grinned. 'You shagged some bloke-'

'It was no one!' Greg said quickly.

By now he had the entire table's attention and busied himself with his beer. Dimmock turned to John. 'Who'd he shag? Sherlock?'

John scowled and said, 'No he bloody well didn't.'

'Sure about that?' Gregson asked. 'Known each other almost seven years now.'

John glared at Greg, who quickly said, 'I've never shagged Sherlock, alright?'

'Hear that, Doc, Lestrade's got something against your soon-to-be-husband,' Dimmock said, pointing an accusing finger at Greg.

They group had already had enough drinks to throw caution to the wind and were staring from John to Greg looking for an answer. Greg groaned as John said, 'Alright, fine; you know how Greg's got a twin sister?'

'SHUT UP!' Greg shouted and grabbed John, trying to silence him. Dimmock and a sergeant- Wentworth if John remembered- grabbed Greg and hauled him back, the DI kicking and shouting.

'He slept with his sister's boyfriend when they were eighteen,' John announced, Greg groaning loudly. 'He was straight and ended up marrying Greg's sister, so now the bloke's his brother-in-law.'

The group all turned as one to look at Greg, who'd finally been let go. He scowled as he grabbed his beer and said, 'See if I throw you any more parties, you fucker!'

John blew a kiss to his best friend and the group roared with laughter, Greg pouting and heading to the bar.

'Oh God, that's hilarious,' Sally cracked up, arm thrown around Gregson. 'Jesus Christ, that's just too funny!'

'What a little animal!' Dimmock exclaimed, pointing at Greg.

'Shut it, Mike,' Greg scowled. 'I'll sic my boyfriend on you.'

Dimmock went pale amazingly quickly and the group all laughed. Greg came back and fell heavily to sit beside John.

'Sorry, Greg, mate,' John said, Greg glaring at him. 'Honestly, they'll all forget tomorrow.'

'Sally won't,' Greg scowled. 'Now I really wish I'd got you the stripper.'

'What?' John blanched.

'Well I was gonna get you a stripper, a woman, to show you what you're gonna miss when you shackle yourself to Sherlock,' Greg said, smirking at John's horrified face. 'But Mycroft talked me out of it.'

'Oh thank God,' John moaned.

'On the other hand...' Greg mused, John staring at him, 'I could get you a _male_ stripper.'

'No, please, I'm sorry,' John begged.

Greg ignored him and stood, tapping his empty glass against the wooden table. Everyone went quiet and looked at him. 'Because it's Johnathan's last night as a free man, he needs to be shown one last naked body.'

'Greg, no!' John shouted.

'So who wants to dance for Johnny?' Greg asked. ' _I_ would, but I'm sleeping with his fiancé's brother, so that'd be weird; plus Mycroft wouldn't appreciate it and I spend half my time keeping Mycroft from doing something illegal to John as it is.'

'What?' John shouted.

He glanced around at the group; Gregson, Wentworth, Mike Stamford, Coates, McGlynn, and Buchanon were all straight, so they weren't going to do it; Dimmock and Brians were both bi, and Garrow gay, so Greg was looking at them.

Sally giggled at the collected men and said, 'I'd totally do it, but I'm a woman; wrong bits, you know.'

'Maybe we should check that,' Dimmock suggested, running his eyes over Sally.

'In your dreams, dickhead,' Sally rolled her eyes. 'I'm done with men since Anderson, the tit.' Everyone stared and Sally smirked. 'What?'

'You're done with men?' Gregson asked.

'Like, forever?' Wentworth asked.

'Hmm... no, not forever,' Sally said, 'but I might go back to dating women.'

'WHAT?' the men shouted. Greg and John chuckled as the DI sat back down. Sally was soon bombarded with questions; what women, where, when, did you sleep with them, give us some stories, _come on, Sal_!

Finally Sally shouted that yes, she'd slept with women, before turning back to Greg. 'Anyway, I reckon Dimmo should get up and dance for us.' She looked back at the young DI. 'Do it and I'll tell you about the time I shagged my brother's ex-girlfriend and _my_ girlfriend at the same time.'

'You're _just_ like Greg!' John shouted at the woman, who smirked evilly.

'Oh, I'm so doing this,' Dimmock said and knocked his beer back. He stood and said, 'Sorry, Doc, I need that story, damn it; besides, you're a good-looking bloke.'

'Oh God,' John groaned as Gregson hurried over to the corner, quickly choosing a "sexy" song. John was mortified as everyone started clapping, the bartenders included, and Greg roared with laughter when Dimmock started dancing around the poor doctor.

 

{oOo}

 

The Holmes brothers didn't do bachelor parties. Mycroft had been invited to a few through work but always declined, and Sherlock had never been invited to a party before in his life. He'd wanted to go to John's bachelor party and had pouted when Mycroft told him he couldn't.

Instead the two brothers stayed at Holmes Manor, Mycroft sipping lemonade and Sherlock glaring at his own, and watched TV... well, the TV was on, but neither were watching it. Mycroft was reading a thick novel and Sherlock was still scowling.

Mycroft sighed as Sherlock yet again shifted on the sofa. He was wearing pyjamas and his silk dressing gown, arms wrapped around his long legs, chin resting on his knees and lips pulled into a pout.

'Sherlock, would you please stop sulking?'

'I can sulk if I wish.'

'You're getting married tomorrow,' Mycroft reminded him. 'Shouldn't you be excited?'

'I _am_ excited,' Sherlock said, 'but I miss John.'

Mycroft closed his book and put it aside while sipping his lemonade. 'I know you do, brother, but it's just one evening.'

'Why couldn't I go?' Sherlock demanded again, turning to sit on the armrest.

'A bachelor party is to celebrate the groom's last day of freedom,' Mycroft said for the fiftieth time. 'It's traditional for the couple to have separate parties.'

'But John and I aren't traditional,' Sherlock scowled. 'I should have gone, damn it. He'll get drunk and change his mind or get hurt and-'

Mycroft kicked the sofa and Sherlock yelped as he went flying back, landing on the floor with a _thud_. He groaned and scowled as he heard Mycroft laughing, and popped back up to see his brother smirking.

'That wasn't funny, Mycroft, I could have broken my neck!'

'It was extremely funny, Sherlock, and I wouldn't have done it if there was any chance of you breaking your neck.'

Sherlock went back to pouting and sat heavily, scowling at the TV like it had personally offended him.

'Sherlock, honestly, are you going to spend your last night as a free man sulking?'

'I'm not a free man,' Sherlock muttered. 'John is my fiancé.'

'True,' Mycroft nodded, leaning back and crossing his legs. He pressed his palms together beneath his nose, watching Sherlock carefully. 'Fine,' he said after a few seconds and his brother looked at him. 'If you stop moping- because Gregory will be very cross with me if I don't show you a good time- I'll do whatever you want for tonight only.'

Sherlock instantly lit up. 'Really?' Mycroft nodded. 'Anything?' Another nod. 'So you'll do experiments with me?' Sherlock asked, already bouncing up and down. 'And drive me somewhere to deduce people with me? And, and-'

'Yes, Sherlock, whatever you want,' Mycroft said, 'as long as it doesn't cause major bodily harm.'

'Why _not_?' Sherlock practically whined.

'You're getting married tomorrow,' Mycroft reminded him as he stood. 'John might be annoyed if you're in hospital instead of waiting for him at the end of the aisle.'

Sherlock just grinned and bounced to his feet and ahead of Mycroft, the elder Holmes chuckling.

 

{oOo}

 

'That was _absolutely_ mortifying,' John snarled.

Greg snickered. Dimmock really had got naked, and showed everyone that he wasn't short in _all_ areas, before rubbing himself against John and getting a smack to the chest. Everyone had fallen to the floor laughing as Dimmock bowed and John escaped, red-faced, into the bathrooms.

'What, every bloke gets a stripper at their bachelor party,' Greg said.

'Keep this up and you'll be the one tied to a bloody pole,' John grumbled.

'Come on, Johnny, don't be a spoil sport,' Greg said, turning to face the shorter man. 'It wasn't that bad; Dimmo's a pretty good dancer.'

John shook his head. 'I can't believe I ever thought you were normal.'

'Yeah, pretty stupid of you,' Greg said and dragged his best friend back to the bar.

'Hey, you didn't force a bachelor party on Sherlock, did you?' John asked, looking worried. He could only imagine what his fiancé would do if someone tried to dance naked around him. _Probably deduce their entire life story_ , John thought fondly.

'Nah, he and Myc stayed at the Manor,' Greg told him as they got fresh beers. 'I dunno what they're doing.'

'Probably sulking at having to spend an entire night together without us,' John said.

Greg chuckled. 'Yeah, or they've killed each other.'

'Blown something up.'

'Set the house on fire.'

They giggled stupidly together, the alcohol finally taking over. Soon John was muttering, 'Better not blow the house up; gotta get married tomorrow.'

'Aww, it'll be fine, Johnathan,' Greg grinned.

'Shut it, Gregory.'

Greg just smirked and tugged him back to the party.

 

{oOo}

 

'I told you not to add baking soda,' Mycroft scowled.

'I didn't know it'd blow up like that!' Sherlock said for the tenth time.

Mycroft turned to glare at him. 'But _I_ did, that's why I told you not to add it!'

Sherlock was pouting again as he and Mycroft trooped upstairs. They were covered in foam, baking soda, and various other powders that Sherlock had added to his concoction. Mycroft had left the kitchen for _three_ minutes and Sherlock had come close to blowing it up.

But he hadn't, merely blown stuff up in it. The brothers had spent the last five hours scrubbing it clean, knowing it was needed for the wedding tomorrow. And neither wanted to face John's wrath.

'You're not going to tell John, are you?' Sherlock asked as he reached his bedroom. Mycroft's was further along.

The elder Holmes turned to look at him and was suddenly reminded of their childhood; Sherlock blowing stuff up, Mycroft helping, and both keeping it from Mummy.

'No, I won't,' he said and Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. 'As long as you don't tell Gregory I let you do it in the first place.'

'Deal,' Sherlock said and they shook hands.

They smiled at each other; this was the part of their relationship that other people didn't get to see. Just them, being themselves, being _brothers_. There was no one to impress, no one to hide from. Everyone thought they hated each other, but Mycroft and Sherlock _could_ get along; it just happened that no one was around when they did.

'Mycroft, do you remember when we were younger, we used to watch science shows together?' Sherlock said suddenly.

'Yes, I remember,' Mycroft nodded.

Sherlock hesitated before saying, 'John bought me some on DVD.'

Mycroft stared at him.

'Maybe we could... watch them?' Sherlock asked. 'Like old times?'

Mycroft was silent for a few seconds before saying, 'I think we have some of those biscuits we used to steal from the pantry. I can meet you back in the sitting room after changing.'

Sherlock grinned and bounced into his bedroom, Mycroft smiling.

 

{oOo}

 

'How's your head?' Greg asked as he walked into the room where John was getting changed. The doctor was already wearing his black suit with a dark blue tie and blue waistcoat. The bachelor party had gone well past three am and they'd had to bring Dimmock, Sally and Gregson back with them because no one knew where the three lived. John and Greg had both got pissed and passed out in the sitting room, to be woken by Mycroft the next morning.

John groaned as he fixed his tie, looking himself over the full-length mirror. The ceremony didn't start until five and it was already four; John would be expected at the front of the aisle at ten to.

He hadn't got much sleep, what with Mycroft pouring water over him at nine am and laughing, and no amount of drugs had taken his headache away. Finally Belle Holmes had made him, Greg, Dimmock, Sally and Gregson all her special tea-remedy that had picked them right up.

'Don't remind me, my head _just_ stopped throbbing,' John muttered.

Greg chuckled and said, 'Mycroft was all in my face about getting trashed and demanded I please him at some point tonight. So, you know, don't follow us into any wardrobes.'

'That is just _so_ wrong,' John commented, Greg smiling. 'Anyway, you're looking nice.'

Greg was wearing a charcoal grey suit, the same colour as Mycroft's, with a green tie and waistcoat. His spiky grey hair had sort of been tamed, he was clean shaven, and the bags under his eyes were less prominent than they had been an hour ago.

'Mycroft's mouth works wonders,' Greg said.

'Oh my God, when did you turn so disgusting?' John demanded, turning to glare at the man.

Greg just smirked and crossed the room to do John's tie up properly. 'You're hopeless, you know that?'

'Well this is why I don't wear ties,' John said. 'They never bloody sit right.' He watched as Greg undid it, looped the material back around John's neck, and re-did it before tucking it into the waistcoat. He straightened the garment, smoothed it down, and made John face the mirror again. 'How'd you do that?' the doctor demanded.

Greg smiled. 'Remember who my fiancé is?'

'Oh, right,' John murmured, thinking about Mycroft's never-ending ties and waistcoats.

There was a knock on the door and John turned to see his parents, Harry, and Clara. He smiled as his mum rushed over to him, enveloping her youngest in a hug.

'Oh, John, you look so handsome,' Lauren Watson gushed.

'Thanks, Mum,' John smiled while shaking his dad's hand.

'We're so happy for you, son,' Hamish said, smiling warmly.

'It's about time you got married,' Harry added.

Clara, who'd only recently got back together with Harry, rolled her blue eyes and hugged John tightly. 'Congratulations, John, I can't believe you're really getting married.'

'To a _man_ ,' Harry added.

'Yes, yes, let's make fun of the gay boy,' John chuckled.

'Aww, you're such a cute little gay boy,' Greg grinned, grabbing John's cheeks and squeezing.

'Fuck off, you're gay too,' John said, swatting the DI away.

Greg grinned. 'Yeah, but I'm not the one getting married.'

'Yet,' Clara added, looking at the engagement ring on Greg's left hand.

Greg beamed and he and Clara chatted like old buddies while John turned to look at himself in the mirror.

He took a deep breath and Hamish said, 'Ready to get married?'

John looked himself over before smiling at the gathered people. 'Yeah,' he nodded, 'I am.'

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft really had done an amazing job. A large silver marquee had been erected off the back veranda, and small lights hung from the edges. Wooden boards had been put over the grass, with cobalt blue carpets over the top, the dark wooden chairs placed atop. There were rich blue ribbons hanging from every chair, and the archway at the front was made of solid wood painted white with blue.

There were heaters every three rows, warming the cold night air, and more could be seen on the veranda.

It was snowing softly as John and Greg exited the house and headed for the front of the aisle, which was just before the gazebo. Sherlock, Mycroft, and most of their guests had already arrived. Belle was sitting in the front with a hungover looking Dimmock, Sally smirking and poking him with her foot. Anthea- or, you know, whatever her name was- was sitting on Belle's other side, her BlackBerry out of sight.

Mycroft was wearing the same outfit as Greg and smiled when he saw his partner and John. Sherlock was wearing a black suit with a bright blue tie that highlighted his eyes, and his black waistcoat had blue pinstripes. His curls were tamed and he'd had a hair cut in the last few days, but his hair was still fairly long.

John felt his heart skip a beat when Sherlock saw him, the genius smiling brightly and looking the doctor up and down. John blushed as he took his place before Sherlock, Greg behind him and Mycroft behind his brother.

While the woman officiating was speaking to Mycroft, Sherlock leaned forward. 'How's your head?' he asked.

John groaned and Sherlock chuckled. 'I had a good night,' John admitted, 'but the hangover nearly killed me.'

Sherlock smiled and said, 'Well, at least you've got something to look forward to today.'

'Mm, I hear the food's gonna be good.'

Sherlock scowled and John quickly pecked him on the cheek in apology.

The woman officiating spoke to Mycroft softly before calling for everyone to sit.

Suddenly John's heart shot into his throat. He couldn't believe it; he was about to get married, _married_. And to Sherlock Holmes of all people.

Okay, so John _definitely_ hadn't seen this coming when he'd first met Sherlock. He smiled suddenly, remembering their first meeting, their first case, as well as everything else. His life certainly had changed after meeting the eccentric Sherlock Holmes. Now he was pretty much gay and best friend's with a DI who was engaged to his fiancé's brother who stalked him for fun.

_And_ he was in a loving, committed relationship with the man of his dreams, a man who could infuriate him in two seconds flat and turn him on in the same amount of time; a man who loved him for who he was, for all the baggage John came with, and who never wanted to be apart from him.

John's smile widened as he spotted his sister and parents in the front row on his side, sitting before a few of his old army buddies. His mum waved and Harry grinned, giving him a thumbs up. John almost rolled his eyes at her but remember where he was standing at the last second.

He turned back to look at Sherlock, who looked a bit nervous but happy to be where he was. Mycroft leaned forward and whispered in his ear and John saw Sherlock relax slightly.

The woman who was marrying them- someone Mycroft knew personally and had introduced as Adelaide- got the guests to calm down and started speaking.

John really wasn't paying attention and knew he should be- after all, he'd never again be getting married again- but he was just so damn excited, and the only thing he could focus on was Sherlock; Sherlock Holmes, his flatmate turned boyfriend turned fiancé... and soon to be husband.

He looked glorious standing before John, their hands joined, his blue eyes wide and full of love. John had never seen Sherlock this happy before and it made him stupidly happy too.

Soon Mycroft was handing Sherlock John's ring, Greg giving over Sherlock's. John noted that Sherlock’s hands were pink and knew his fiancé had been rubbing them continuously all morning. He was nervous, not about marrying John but about screwing up this important day.

So John smiled at him warmly, he gave that smile; Sherlock’s smile. And Sherlock’s nervous tick stopped immediately. He grinned broadly as they exchanged words before Sherlock was slipping the thin silver band onto John’s hand; the one that marked John as Sherlock’s forever.

John copied him, slipping a matching silver band onto Sherlock’s still pink finger.

Sherlock whispered, ‘I love you, husband.’

John chuckled. ‘I love you too, idiot.’

Sherlock laughed softly and Mycroft snorted behind him.

'You may now kiss your husband,' Adelaide said, smiling broadly.

Sherlock bounced forward and pulled John in for a passionate kiss, the guests clapping and cheering loudly.

 

{oOo}

 

The reception was held inside the main ballroom and on the back veranda. Sturdy tables had been set up with blue and silver tablecloths and comfortable chairs, the plates and utensils all silver. Each table had a single vase with two blue flowers in them- John didn't know what they were called.

The entire place looked amazing and waiters and waitresses dressed in black suits walked back and forth with silver trays, serving the appetisers and drinks. There was a bar set up to the side of the room and John had already seen Greg pull Mycroft away from it.

The music was courtesy of a DJ in the corner of the ballroom, and was mostly a mash of songs John and Greg liked, as well as various popular stuff Anthea had picked out.

After the appetisers the main course was brought out, the guests having chosen between steak and chicken. At the main table a large plate of spaghetti was put down between the newly married couple, and Sherlock grinned as John accepted the glasses of wine from the waiter.

'Why spaghetti again?' Greg asked from beside John.

'We had it on our first date,' Sherlock told him.

Mycroft smiled from beside Sherlock and said, 'I never knew you were so romantic, brother.'

Sherlock poked his tongue out and turned back to John, who rolled his eyes at the Holmes brothers. Sherlock stuck his fork in and twisted it around, getting a good portion of spaghetti on the silver.

Before he could go through with his plan, John beat him to it. The doctor grabbed the fork and forced it to Sherlock's lips, smearing sauce all over the sociopath's face. Sherlock scowled and John giggled before leaning forward to lick it off.

'I love you,' he said when he was done.

'Love you too,' Sherlock grinned.

 

{oOo}

 

They made a mess of their spaghetti, though it was their wedding so neither cared. When they were done, and a number of napkins had been used to clean up, Greg and Mycroft both stood. Mycroft shook his brother's hand and offered more congratulations before sliding an envelope into his top pocket.

'Mycroft, you've already done so much,' Sherlock protested.

'And I'll continue to do so,' Mycroft smiled. 'Congratulations, brother.'

In a fit of love Sherlock pulled his brother in for a hug, and John and Greg watched gobsmacked as the Holmes boys embraced.

'Congratulations, John, Sherlock,' Mycroft said, shaking John's hand when Sherlock had let him go.

'Hey, Johnny, now you're Mycroft's brother-in-law,' Greg grinned.

John smiled back. 'Well when you and Mycroft get married, _we'll_ be brother-in-laws too.'

'Yay, my own brother!' Greg shouted, hugging the doctor tightly. John snorted and Greg pulled back. 'Sorry, mate, I've gone loopy; I think I'm still drunk.'

'I hear you,' John said and smiled as Mycroft tugged his partner away. Soon it was time to dance and Sherlock put his usual anti-social behaviour aside to drag John onto the dance floor. 'Seriously, you want to dance?' John asked.

'As long as I can lead,' Sherlock said.

John nodded and put one hand on Sherlock's waist, the other clasped tightly in the genius' own, and was amazed when Sherlock led them perfectly.

Sherlock smirked and said, 'I'm full of surprises, Mr Holmes.'

John chuckled. 'That you are, Mr Watson.'

'Our names will get very confusing, very quickly,' Sherlock commented.

'Well legally our names are still the same,' John said, 'but you can call me Mr Holmes whenever you want.'

'John Holmes is a magnificent name.'

'So's Sherlock Watson.'

'Hmm... good children's names,' Sherlock said.

John chuckled and rested his head against Sherlock's chest, humming softly as he did.

'Are you okay?' Sherlock asked above him.

'Mm,' John nodded. 'Absolutely fine.'

'I love you, John,' Sherlock said. 'You've made me the happiest man in the world.'

'I love you too,' John said, leaning up quickly to peck Sherlock on the lips. 'My Sherlock.'

'Forever and always,' Sherlock responded.

John smiled and Sherlock let go of his hands in favour of wrapping his arms around the shorter man. He rested his chin atop John's head and the couple swayed together as others danced around them.

 

{oOo}

 

The wedding was a big hit and everyone got their wish. Dimmock saw Sally snog a woman, Anthea got to snog Sally, Mycroft and Greg had sex in public, Sherlock threw cake, and John got naked.

Really, good times were had all around.

And John and Sherlock couldn't have been happier.

 

~To Be Continued~

 


End file.
